The Long Road to Nowhere
by comptine
Summary: AU Her innocence was his heroine. His addiction. He had no feelings for her, yet he kept going back for more, risking reveling his true form each time. She remained naive and caring, even as the death count grew, a mistake she was going to regret. HIATUS
1. The Taxi

**The Long Road to Nowhere**

**Chapter 1**

**The Taxi  
**

-

Great, it's one of those taxi drivers, the ones that believe that every moment you spend inside their car should be used to interrogate you about everything from school to where you've traveled; just my luck.

If I didn't know any better, I'd pin them as secret CIA agents.

The first question that pops out of this guy's mouth is, "So you go to school around here?"

By around here, I'm sure he means the slums of the city. I put on my best adult-question-answering voice and say, "No, I go to Ba Sing Se High."

"Oh, I heard that was a good school." The cab driver smiles at me in his rear view mirror. I pretend to glance out the window, as if suddenly absorbed by the passing white picket fences and dark houses. Occasionally a streetlight flashes pass, flooding light into the cab and illuminating my fingers, which were gripped so tightly in my lap that they turned a dull white. I know what he's doing; he's waiting for me to ask about his family or how long he's been a cab driver or something like that.

He gives me a second of peace before bursting out the second question. "Well, where can I take you, pumpkin?"

I shudder at the pet name. What? I've known him for two minutes and forty-five seconds and he already has permission to call me nicknames? "Just across the gingerbread bridge and past the fairy village my dear, sweet, Lemon Tart." I almost spit out sarcastically, but the right words fall onto my tongue and I say, "836 River Street."

"Oh, that's far." His face fell. "What are you doing all the way down here?" Third question.

Running away.

"Visiting a homeless shelter; I try and help there as often as possible." I add the charmingly innocent smile at the end for effect.

"Oh, a volunteer. That's very nice of you." The smile's back and I know he's going to drop my fare by two dollars or so. But he'll do no more talking after that; he's confident that I'm not going to mug him. The only reason I even called a cab and abandoned my running away is because my brother called me.

He never calls, so it must be an emergency. The only thing he said was, "Katara, it's Sokka. Something's wrong. Come back ASAP." He only caught my voicemail; I was refusing to answer my phone.

The cab driver takes my silence as the end of our conversation and goes back to focusing on the road.

After twenty minutes he pulls up to my small street. His motor putters slightly as he pulls to a stop and turns around in his seat to face me. "That'll be five dollars and thirty-six cents, Miss."

I open my wallet pass him the money, and with a final forced smile, I open the door and clamber out of the car. I watch it pull out my road before starting towards the blue house. The lights are on and through the white blinds I can see familiar figures of lamps. I finally reach the door.

I take a deep breath and my hand clamps around the doorknob. I turn it. Slowly, the door opens and I creep into the house. I look around; all the lights were on, but apparently no one was home. As my feeling of foreboding increased I call out into the empty house. "Hello? Sokka? Dad? Mom? Anyone?" My calls echo, almost comically around the house.

"Katara?" A voice responded from deep in the house and my brother came running from his room. "Thank God you're back!"

"I got your message. What's wrong?"

His eyes are glassy and his normally smiling face is serious. "She's gone; mom left."

"What?"

"Katara," Sokka's made it down the stairs, "she's gone."

My knees feel weak, my head is spinning. I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. I sag against the wall, chest heaving as tears flood my eyes, glazing them over. Sokka takes my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. I start sobbing into his shirt, letting him hold me. I feel like I am five again and have tripped and Sokka has come to comfort me.

I want to run. I want to catch up with her, make her stay. I want to tell her how much I love her; make her forgive dad, make her stay, make her love me. I want to tell her that she can never leave. I want to make her hold me, and let me soak in the smell of fresh lilies that had always hung around her.

I, at least, want to make her say goodbye.

"What about dad?" I finally manage to choke.

"He's packing." Sokka's voice drops a few octaves as he whispers into my ear. I push him back, the tears still streaking down my face. The sobs have stopped dead and a new panic erupts in my chest.

"Packing." I find my face forced back into my brother's chest. "We're moving Katara."

"What?" My voice has gone deadly quiet; I'm not even going to dare believe the words escaping from my brother's mouth.

"Moving." His heart is beating fast. "We leave tomorrow."

I push myself out of my brother's chest and run up the stairs. Sokka calls after me but I don't stop. I run into my father. His eyes are puffy and he's holding two boxes. I push by him. He calls after me softly before I slam my door. I really start crying now. Great heaving sobs. I don't want to leave. Running away seems like such a stupid idea now, it was selfish, something I did so people would notice. Stupid teenage tendencies, they seem so trivial compared to this. I've lived here for fifteen years and my dad just thinks he can take that away from me? I slid down the door, slumping as I reached the floor, and, pulling my legs close. I begin to cry into them, muffling the bawling slightly.

After a good half-an-hour of crying, I finally look up, rubbing at my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. My eyes narrow as I look around the empty room. My bed is stripped of it covers. The walls, which were once covered in pictures and posters are bare. I stand up, almost shaking from suppressed rage. I check my closet and find it empty; my dresser is empty as well. My room is merely a ghost of what it used to be. My eyes tear up again and I fall onto my bed with its one lonely pillow and start crying again. As my head falls onto the pillow it encounters something hard that makes me recoil sharply. I rub the throbbing goose-bump on my head as scan my bed.

A small necklace is sitting on the pillow; I hadn't seen it in my state of hysteria. It has a small silvery-blue pendant on a small ribbon of deep navy silk. I pick it up, looking at it through my dewed eyelashes. I recognize it after a few seconds. It's my mother's. A fresh wave of tears threatens to overpower me. To distract myself, I grope for the small note that was attached to the clasp of the necklace.

-

_My dearest daughter,_

_You have every right to hate me. But let me tell you that I love you, your brother and your father more than anything._

_Katara I'm sorry it had to turn out like this, but the truth is that you were never safe with me around._

_Keep the necklace safe._

_Love Mom_

-

The 'Love' is slightly smudged from a tear; whether my own or my mother's I can't tell.

Suddenly an almost calm feeling overcomes me. My eyes start to droop and I yawn, falling forwards onto my pillow, falling asleep immediately. My hand still clenched the note.

* * *

"Katara, it's time to get up."

"I'm not leaving." I moan. The letter is still in my hand, crumpled from clutching it all through the night. Sokka gently pushes the door to my room open. I sit up as he comes in, closing the door behind him. The sky outside is pastel, the sun is arriving.

"Go away."

He sits on my bed. I roll away from him, facing the wall. His hand brushes against the sheets. "Katara, I know how you're feeling." I want to scream that he doesn't, but that was a lie. I content myself with grunting. He keeps talking at my silence. "Is there anybody you want to say goodbye to?"

Everyone. "No."

He sighs. "Are you always this stubborn?"

"No." I answer, sitting up, glaring at him through puffy eyes. He smiles sadly. He hunches over, hands fiddling in his lap; I can tell something is still on his mind.

"Is that mom's necklace?" He picks up the jewelery from the folds of my sheets. He holds it, tears filling his eyes. "I miss her too."

He hugs me, tighter than he normally does. My arms wrap around his stomach. For a moment we just hold each other.

"Do you think we'll be alright?" I wonder aloud, directing the question to the room at large.

He doesn't let go. "I don't know." I worm out of his grasp. His hands fall to my shoulders, holding me down. He lifts the necklace from where he dropped it. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"So I can put this on." He jingles the pendant. I twist, my brother's hands wrap around my neck, pulling behind them the navy silk. The silver-blue jewel rests in the crook on my neck; the tips of my fingers touch the smooth stone.

"Ready to go?"

I stand up. Rubbing my eyes and putting the note in my pocket, I mutter my consent. "Let's go."

* * *

A/N

I know, Zutara's not really a huge ship for most of my regular readers, but please, give it a chance. I'm not asking you to switch ships, I'm just asking you to read a story.


	2. The Ferry

**The Long Road to Nowhere**

**Chapter 2**

**The Ferry**

**-**

When you read stories about moving, the main character always moves from her sunny paradise in Florida or California to somewhere cold and rainy. This is because, apparently, the rain is horrible.

Personally, I don't know what they're talking about. The rain is beautiful. It keeps the world alive.

The highway we drive on is foggy. Dark trees alive with green needles and leaves line the side of the road. Overhead the sky is grey; the clouds let no sunshine through. Sokka dozes in the passenger seat while my dad keeps his dark blue eyes fixed on the road. I glance behind us and see the U-Haul trailer behind dragged by our blue Explorer. My iPod shuffles through songs but I can't hear the soft music over the swishing of the windshield wipers and the pounding rain.

We pull into a line of cars, the wheels sliding over the wet road before stopping. My father's fingers tap the steering wheel. Sokka snuffles awake blinking and stretching in his seat. The car slowly pulls closer and closer to the little booth.

A woman sits in it, chewing gum, while her overly makeup-ed eyes examine her long manicured nails. She looks at us when Hakoda rolls down his window.

"Ticket for the six o'clock please." Pleasantly, flashing her smile.

"Forty-three dollars please." The woman asks

He nods and searches in his wallet for the money. "Here you are."

She snatches the money. Taking her time, her nails click on the keyboard. She chews her gum lethargically and once the money is safely stowed in the cash register, the wooden barrier lifts. "Have a nice day." Hakoda says before rolling up his window and driving away. The road starts to dip, winding around a corner; I finally see it.

The ocean. It ripples in the rain while a large ferry drifts on it. Fog makes the horizon closer, blocking all attempts to see other islands. About fifty vehicles are lined up at the terminal.

"I'm hungry." My brother complains.

"You can eat on the ferry." Hakoda says shortly.

His hands never relax from the steering wheel and his eyes never leave the car in front of us. Sokka takes my dad's bluntness as a hint to shut-up. Our car is silent, tension building with each raindrop.

A deep, resonating horn echoes through bay. I pull out my headphones and sit up a little straighter, wrapping the wires around the iPod Video. This is it; the end. There's no going back now.

Sokka turns to look at me, his eyes downcast. I offer a weak smile before focusing all my attention on the bridge lowering towards the transport. Our engine guns into life and slowly, the traffic piles onto the ship.

The rain's pounding stops as we slip under the upper deck. The sound of engines and people are climbing out of their cars, yawning from long drives and stretching from sitting for so long.

"You kids go get some food." My dad says. It sounds like an order. "I'll stay here."

Sokka's head gestures to a stairway as we get out of the car.

"You want anything?" Sokka's voice drifts in and out of my consciousness. I sit at a small table in the ship's cafeteria.

"No."

I start my favourite hobby of people catching. In a corner sits an old lady, knitting while her foot taps to the music playing over the speakers. A toddler waddles around while a pair of proud parents watches him. The man's arm is wrapped around his wife. A couple, only a few years older than me, steal kisses between sipping their steaming drinks.

He makes a non-committal noise and gives me one last look before standing up and walking towards the line of people waiting for food. I blow a few strands of hair out of my face and go back to watching people. A businessman, judging from his clean cut Ralph Lauren suit, paces as the ship starts moving. His eyebrows furrow as he talks on a phone. Beside him sits a young woman, nibbling on a peanut butter sandwich. Her hemp bag and dreadlocks are damp, probably from standing in the rain.

The people start to get boring so I look out the window; a foggy cloud meets my gaze, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"I got you steamed milk." Sokka's voice grabs my attention. I look up. He has a tray of food and holds out a Styrofoam drink cup. Forgetting my anger at the world, I smile and take the drink. "And a cookie." He adds cheerfully. "They were fresh and I know chocolate chip is your favourite."

"Thanks, Sokka." He passes me the warm cookie. The chocolate is already melting on my fingers as I take a bite into it, feeling a little better.

"No problem." He starts to dig into his own food, a drumstick and mashed potatoes. My brother knows exactly how I feel and there's a little comfort found in that. For twenty minutes we eat. Once the last foamy dregs of my drink are swallowed, we explore the ship. Rows and rows of blue chairs line the windows, filled with every kind of person.

"It doesn't look like that bad of a place." Sokka says, his arm motioning towards the ocean and tiny islands wavering the fog. I have to agree with him. I've been to Gibsons once before, to go to my aunt's wedding, and really liked it. Under other circumstances, I might've been ecstatic to be moving.

We circle around the deck five times, making petty conversation to fill the void. Finally, the ferry's announcer's wheezy voice sounds over the PA system. "We will be arriving soon to Gibsons. Please; all passengers return to your vehicles." Sokka and I stumble down the stairs as the ferry drifts closer to land. The blue Explorer waits for us. My father's head is tilted back, drooling slightly.

My brother puts a finger to his lips and we slowly open the car doors. At that exact moment, the ferry's horn blew again. Hakoda springs up, mumbling incoherently and rubbing the drool away with the back of his hand. "What's going on?"

"We've landed." Sokka says to him, pulling on his seatbelt.

Gibsons is a beautiful island, covered in a layer of thick trees. As we drive off the ship, we can see the orange glow of lamplights puncturing the fog. On the island, most of the haze as lifted, so I can see clearly. The moon's light is visible, illuminating the small town. All the lights are off and only a few people walk during the night. We drive straight through downtown. I glance out my window and see the ocean sparkling in the moonlight. I feel calm. I don't know what it is about it, but the full moon always makes me feel wonderful.

The car winds through the rain-washed roads. My eyes start to droop and once or twice I catch myself dozing off. Sokka's seems to be asleep. He's leaning against the window, his chest expanding and deflating rhythmically. My dad yawns in the front seat, rubbing his eyes. Dark trees flash by and the headlights run low against the street. The turning signal starts flashing and the car turns right, pulling onto a dirt road. We rumble along for a few minutes and then, looming out of the dark, a mansion appears. My dad cuts the engine and the headlights dim before I can get a better look at the house.

I try to squint through the darkness, but the manor is difficult to see; all I can see is a vague hint of a white trim. Hakoda yawns again. I keep trying to see the house, but the moon is hidden behind the growing clouds. Rain starts to fall again. I glance between my father and brother. They have both fallen asleep, utterly exhausted from the drive and a sleepless night.

I don't have the heart to wake them up so I curl into a little ball, letting the sound of the rain wash over me, pulling me into an uncomfortable sleep.


	3. Home, Sweet Home

**The Long Road to Nowhere**

**Chapter 3**

**Home, Sweet Home**

**-**

"Hello? Are you awake? Mr Kirima!" The yelling and the rap of knuckles on glass jolt me awake. I sit bolt upright, looking for the source of the voice through sleep-glazed eyes.

"Sorry, Mr. Sozin." I glance at my father who has opened his door. The man he's talking to is short with a large belly. It jiggles with silent laughter at finding three people sleeping in a car. His face is lined with wrinkles and his long beard and mane of hair are a dusty grey. His golden eyes twinkle and his deep voice says, "Just Iroh, please." He looks at me, I shrink back into my seat and he offers me a warm smile, "Who might this be?"

"This is Katara," Hakoda points at my brother, "and this is Sokka, my oldest." Hakoda explains. Iroh squeezes a podgy hand between the seat and door. "Please to meet you."

I take it, still beyond confused as to why this man his here. "Yeah."

"C'mon kids." Dad says, stepping out of the car onto a lush lawn. He stretches and large popping noises come from his back. He seems much calmer than he was last night.

I look around, taking a step backwards when I see the mansion. It's a dusky blue and last night's white trim is now creamy beige. It is three stories high with large windows so filled with dust I can't see inside. The mansion has the aura of abandonment and looks like it just popped out of a Hitchcock film.

"Dad," I grab his wrist and pull him away from Iroh. "Who is this guy?" Sokka has wandered over as well, obviously just as confused and sceptical as I am.

"Yeah, I don't know if I trust him." Says my brother, also lowering his voice.

Our father smiles. "He's the owner of this home. We're buying it." Understanding floods into my brother's eyes. I still don't trust him, but it was two against one. We walk up the front steps onto a small porch. The double doors creak open as Iroh's hand pushes them.

The entry room is huge. A large staircase is right across from the entrance, leading to the upper levels. I look down and see a giant sun and moon mosaic, made of colourful tiles, slightly faded by the countless pairs of feet that have trodden on them. Doors are open to the left and right, leading to even more rooms.

"Here." Iroh extends a hand to the left. "We'll go see the office first."

Warm light spills in from the large window. A wooden desk sits in the corner, shining in the morning light. The walls are lined with bookshelves twice my height. Tomes of all thickness and colours fill the shelves. I run my hand along the left wall of the room. I reach the end, and before I reach the next bookcase there is a large gap. A life-size portrait fills the space of wall.

The woman in the portrait is tall. The soft blue kimono wrapped around her frame is held together by a deep navy corset while the trim of the dress is a creamy light blue. Her tanned hand is clutched at her chest in a gesture of apprehension. Brown hair flows down her back and a small pendant hangs at her neck. Her sapphire eyes stare forward. They seem hopeful. As I glance at the eyes a shiver runs down my spine; they seem to look at me.

I blink and when I open my eyes again her stare is facing forward again. I narrow my eyes.

"Who is that?" I ask aloud as the portrait seems to twinkle with mischievousness for a moment.

The old man walks over, his amber eyes thoughtful. "My sister-in-law was a huge believer in old myths. This is a primary figure in most old legends."

"You know who lived here before?"

"Oh, of course! This was my brother's home. He lived here with his wife and two children until his wife unexpectedly disappeared. He never was the same." He sighs heavily. I take a moment to absorb the tragic tale. The mother just disappeared? I choke back tears as I remember my own situation. My mother left without a word. "Let's keep going." Iroh says as he notices the tears welling in my eyes.

"You alright?" My brother asks, also noticing the tears. I nod, he takes one look at the portrait before walking towards the other door and opening it.

A table with enough seats for over a dozen people fills most of the room. The walls are covered in red faded wallpaper.

"The dining room; my brother loved holding parties." Iroh's hand rests on the back of a chair.

I glance out the window. Through it I spot the edge of a lush forest. I watch the branches sway in the wind and as they hypnotize me something interrupts my thought. Slowly the soft sound of a piano being played drifts in and out of my earshot. I tilt my head, straining to hear the faint melody. My brother walks over and I ask him if he hears it. He listens for a moment then shakes his head. "You must be hearing things."

"I am not!" I hiss at him. He tries to give me an understanding nod but he still looks sceptical. I push by him and go to open the door leading out of the dining room.

It opens into a hallway. Only windows and portraits take up wall space. I walk towards one of the painting.

A family of four sits in front of a backdrop of a green forest. A little girl sits on her father's lap, her small eyes narrowed in impatience. The wife smiles weakly, though her eyes appear lifeless. The father hold his head proud yet his eyes seem so cold and infuriated I have to look away to the final figure in the portrait. The last person seems to be the son; he stares forward with barely any emotion in amber eyes. The portrait is unsettling; the artist somehow captured the simmering anger in each gaze.

"Creepy." Sokka mutters as he walks by me, glancing at the portrait before continuing down the hallway. Hakoda and Iroh walk by me as I continue to stare at the portrait.

"Katara. Let's keep moving." My father calls from the next room. I tear my eyes away from the little boy and follow my father's voice. The kitchen is small but cosy. The appliances seem fairly new and the counter has less dust than the rest of home.

"I thought I show you just one more room." Iroh says, going out a doorway into a small hall, "And then I'll leave you be." His gleaming gaze lands on me and he gives me a wink. "I'd show you the rest of the house, but I'll let you do that on your own." His amber eyes twinkle mysteriously. "There are plenty of surprises behind every door in this old house." A slim smile stretches his lips. "And we wouldn't want to spoil any surprises now, would we?"

The hallway has another doorway but it's the staircase that catches my interest. My father and Iroh go through the doorway while I sneak up the stairs. Sokka spots me. He glances back and Iroh and Hakoda before rushing to follow me. "What are you doing?" Sokka asks.

"Exploring."

The stairs curl to the right and when we reach the top it opens into a small room. All the furniture is covered by sheets. Looking around I see a bed frame pushed in a corner. "I call this one." I say. Sokka nods, he's lost his voice on the way up the stairs apparently.

I open the door, which leads us onto the second floor. To our left is another set of stairs and right beside my door is another one. Sokka opens it and declares that the room right beside mine is his. The second floor is in the shape of a horseshoe, with four doors on each of the walls. The dusty wallpaper is not covered in portraits but old candle bracket covered in cobwebs glow dully in the light.

We can hear my father's conversation with Iroh as it floats up the staircase. "C'mon, I wanna see what's in the attic." I grab my brother's hand and pull him up the tiny staircase.

The stairs bring us the attic. A length of the floor is padded. Sokka's eyes grow wide as he walks on the pads. "It's a fencing arena." He explains, glancing at a few dusty rapiers hanging on the wall.

Again, the sound of the piano reaches my ears. I grab Sokka's arm and put a finger to my lips, mouthing for him to listen. He ignores me and carefully lifts one of the swords off the wall. I follow the sound. It grows louder as I open the door to the other part of the attic.

In the far corner sits a boy. He sits at a piano, playing the melody that has chased me through the entire house. Behind the piano is a window the size of the wall, you can see the tops of trees stretching for acres. The sound of the door opening has not disrupted him so I close it silently. A small chair is near the door I take it and let the music wash over me.

The right hand carries the melody, floating over the keys while the left plays a steady beat. The music is sad and yet it seems thoughtful, growing slowly with each passing note. Then it dies into an echoing silence. The boy sighs heavily and pushes the bench back, standing up.

"That was beautiful." I tell him. He whips around, fists flying to his chest in a protective stance. He's taller than my brother, but almost as lanky or maybe it's just his baggy clothes. His dark brown hair falls into his eyes but I can see them flash as he focuses on me. The intensity of his glare forces me to stand up. I back away from him. He walks towards me in long strides and his face comes out of shadows. My hands fly to my mouth as I see a scar burned across the left side of his face.

"What are you doing here?" He asks in a quiet and slightly hostile voice.

It takes me a moment to find my voice. I look anywhere but at the scar, trying to hide my fear. "My father's buying this house. I'm Katara Kirima." I give him a moment to give me his name but he remains silent. I brave a glance at his face, staring at his right eye with all of my determination. "Who are you?"

He takes a moment to answer, as if he doesn't know himself. "Zuko."

"Katara who are you talking to in there?" My brother opens the door and walks in. Zuko's eyes flash over to him, I let out a sigh of relief as his intense gaze leaves my face. Sokka's eyes travel between him and me. I remember suddenly that I was backed into a corner. I could imagine that the scene did not look good.

"What's going in here?" He demands, his chest puffing out as he calmly placed himself between Zuko and I.

"Sokka this is Zuko." I explain, pointing at the scarred youth.

Sokka holds out a cautious hand and Zuko ignores it pointedly. "What are you doing here?" Sokka asks, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Iroh is my uncle." Zuko starts towards the door, Sokka sidesteps and gives me a who-does-this-guy-think-he-is look. I shrug and follow Zuko down the two flights of stairs until we find ourselves back in the main room.

"Wait," I say as Zuko and Sokka start towards the living room. I can see Zuko's scar from here, nestled in the flesh is an amber eye. I stare at the eye then realize where I've seem that emotionless gaze before. "You're the boy from the portrait. Aren't you?"

Zuko's eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly in surprise. "How did yo-"

"Ah! Nephew!" Iroh calls for him. "I was wondering where you had slunk off to. Please come in and enjoy some tea. I see you've already met Sokka and Katara."

Zuko and I enter the small living room. In the middle is a small table where my father, Iroh sipping tea. Against a wall sits an upright piano. Zuko and I take the remaining seats and Iroh pours us two cups of steaming tea. "It's jasmine." He says with a small wink. Zuko grunts and I take my cup, mumbling a 'thank you'. "Have I told you about Zuko's piano talents? He's truly a prodigy." Iroh says.

"Yes, I heard him." I say. Zuko glares at me and takes a long drink of his tea.

Iroh's eyes twinkle. "Zuko! Why don't you play us something?"

"No." he replies curtly. The room is silent but Iroh's face is cracking into a smile. He continues to stare at Zuko, who fidgets under his uncle's gaze. The minutes begin to mount but Zuko finally breaks and stands up, shuffling towards the piano. "One song." he mutters.

"Perfect." Iroh says as he settles himself comfortably in the chair.

Zuko's long fingers begin to dance over the keys, sweet melodies and long harmonies float around the room. Arpeggios and scales blend seamlessly and I can't take my eyes off of him. His dark hair sways in time with his arms as they move over the keyboard.

As soon as he starts it seems that he stops. The only indication that time has passed was that the steam had disappeared from my now cold teacup. We clap politely and Zuko gives an awkward nod of his head. He glances over at his beaming uncle. "I think we should be going."

"My nephew is right." Iroh gets up first walks towards the front doors. "So we'll make all the arrangements shall we?"

"Yes." My father says, opening the doors for them.

Iroh's hand digs into his pocket while Zuko walks out of the door without a second glance. "Here are the keys to the house. If you have any problems don't hesitate to call me." They shake hands and with a final goodbye, Iroh leaves.

Sokka and Hakoda go back into the living room but I climb the two sets of the stairs as quickly as my legs will carry me. Once back in the attic I stand by the piano and watch Zuko and Iroh climb into a red car. As Zuko opens the car door, he turns back to the house and spots me in the top window.

I wave.

He nods and climbs into the car. I watch it until it drives out of sight.

* * *

A/N

I just noticed something. Zuko is musically talented in most of my new fics...weird.


	4. School Time

The Long Road to Nowhere

Chapter 4

School time

-

_The forest is misty. Old ruins of a cathedral cage me in. The main hall is overgrown with vines and flowers. Giant puddles ripple as rain pours down. A large staircase leads towards a door. My long blue dress drags in the moist grass as the door calls me forward._

_The forest is silent._

_A black figure appears in front of the door. "I've been waiting for you…" the figure whispers._

-

"Good morning! Time to get up!" my brother dives onto my bed. I curl into a ball before his body can crush my legs. He's already dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

"Ergh." I moan, pulling the covers over my head. The cool creamy white of the sheets hide me until my brother tugs them right off my bed. I shiver in the cool morning air. "Do I have to?"

"Of course! New school means new ladies!" He winks roguishly.

"You perv." The pillow I throw misses his as he runs from the room, laughing.

I climb out of bed and start to prepare for the day. Jeans, t-shirt and ballet flats. My hair is brushed and my teeth are clean when I walk down the stairs to the kitchen.

My father set up a small table in the kitchen so we wouldn't always have to eat at the big table everyday.

Sokka eats a bowl of cereal, the milk moustache almost as sexy as my old friend Haru's. Hakoda sips his coffee and reads the local paper. He gives me a small smile as I enter before returning to the sports section.

I walk over to the cabinets, pulling out bread, a toaster and Nutella. Once the toast pops out of the toaster and is coated with mashed hazelnuts my father folds up the newspaper. "We better get going." He drinks the last dregs of his coffee and stands up. My brother follows suit and they leave together.

Gray storm clouds block the sunrise and replace it with rain. We run for the car, doing our best not to get soaked by the rain, get in and pull out of the driveway.

"Your backpacks are in the back seat." Hakoda says after a few minutes. My brother searches for them while I stare out the window. The small town of Gibson's is waking up. People line up outside small Starbucks while some cars drive towards the ferries. We drive the opposite way of the ferries and through the lush green forests. Rain splatters against the window and clings to the glass as we wind along the road.

"Where are we going?" Sokka asks as we drove deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Sechelt." My dad says. "It's about twenty minutes from Gibson's. The school's called Chatalac High. I registered you both before we moved."

The forest ends and we find ourselves in another small town. On the left stretches the ocean and a rocky beach where early risers are running. On the left houses of pallid colours almost blend in with the increasing rainfall and approaching fog. Suddenly the road tilts upward and the car putters up the giant hill. We reach the crest and it dips again, curving down town. Stores of vibrant colours stand out in the fog.

"This is nice…" I say, watching a small mall fly by. The road tilts up again and we drive up another hill. A school bus pulls up behind us as we drive into a parking lot. Chatalac High is on the top of hill overlooking the whole town and the endless ocean. I can see it from the parking lot! I gaze at the most scenic thing I have ever seen, from a school parking lot.

This is a weird place.

"Okay, just go to the front office, they know you're coming. I'm going back to the house, if you need anything call me." Hakoda says to us. Sokka opens the door, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

I look at my father. "You're not coming in?"

He tries to give me a reassuring smile but falls short. "I can't. I'm meeting an inspector back at the house. Love you."

"Love you to dad." I shut the door behind me. I still don't look at the school but watch my father drive away. Taking a deep breath I turn to look at my new school.

It's appears to be brand new, about two stories tall and a clean white. Students already pile into the school and I can see my brother waiting for me in the middle of the crowd. I run over to him and we mesh with the other students and enter the school.

The entrance hall is huge; a set of stairs lead to the second floor while the first is littered with sitting tables. To our right is the office. We get shunted off to the side and Sokka opens the door to the office.

It smells like old cats and peppermint. Judging from the old woman sitting behind the counter sucking on a striped candy I think I can guess where the smell is coming from.

"Hello." She says is a kind voice. "Can I help you?" Sokka just stares at her, probably at all the cat pins she's wearing on her sweater-vest.

"Yes, we just moved here. We're Katara and Sokka Kirima. Our father said he already registered us."

"Oh yes," she rifles through a pile of papers. "Here we go, I've got all your paper here. Here are you schedules." I pass Sokka his schedule and look down mine.

Day 1

**Math**

**English**

**Study Hall**

**Art**

Day 2

**Social Studies**

**Science**

**Gym**

**Computers**

"Those schedules alternate everyday. You should be fine." She leans over to a small microphone and her pink nail clicks the red button. Her voice reverberates around the school. "Would Toph Bei Fong and Zuko Sozin please come to the office? Zuko Sozin and Toph Bei Fong, to the office please." She hangs up the microphone. "You can just take a seat in those chairs until Toph and Zuko come." She points at a pair of grey chairs before returning to her work.

They are severely uncomfortable unless you sit straight up. Behind me I can already hear the mumblings of students as they stare at the new kids sitting in the office. I try to keep my face blank but I can't help but let my eyes dart nervously watching the students.

The door suddenly bursts open and a short girl with a pair of goggles hanging around her neck and a crooked smile saunters in. Behind her Zuko follows, his dark hair hanging in his eyes while his hands are shoved into his pockets and his lips a thin, unimpressed line.

"Lighten up Sunshine." The girl says, elbowing Zuko in the gut. "We've got fresh meat!"

I smile at the nickname the girl has given Zuko. Behind the counter the kind lady says, "Zuko, Toph, I expect you to act as Katara's and Sokka's guides until they can figure their own way around the school. Zuko you can take Sokka to his first class. Toph you can show Katara hers."

I stand up and offer a hand to their girl. Toph was her name? She squints her eyes before pulling the goggles over them. What in the world is she doing?

"Oh I see, you're offering your hand. My bad, I'm blind without these things. Sunshine here can vouch for me. Who knows how many times I've mistaken one house for another. Let's just say a lot of families discover they had a new daughter until I got my goggles. I'm Toph Bei Fong by the way." She grabs my hand. Her rough ones are chafe against my moisturized ones. I stare at her, while Sokka glares at Zuko who is avoiding any eye contact with Sokka.

"C'mon. Let's go." Toph says after shaking my hand. "Sunshine, I'll see you at lunch." She starts out of the office. I give Sokka a smile and follow Toph.

The halls are filled with students who are all talking, finishing late night's homework and rushing to get to class. They seem to give Toph and I a wide berth. Toph has her goggles hanging around her neck and presents herself with such a touch-me-and-you're-dead attitude. I'm not sure I've made the best choice of first acquaintances. "So Toph…" I say, attempting to make some form of conversation. "Your goggles..."

"What about them?" Toph's voice takes on a protective tone momentarily and her hand seems to grasp them subconsciously.

"I was just wondering…" I say, letting my voice fade into the lame excuse.

Toph quirks her eyebrow. "You're a funny one." She says as she pushes a door open. The classroom inside is dull. Rows of desks are already filled with chatting students and the walls are covered with posters with an attempt at making school seem a little more bearable.

The teacher's grey hair is pulled back into a harsh bun, accentuating her hawk-like features. Her thin eye gaze over the students, and only flicker to us as we enter the classroom before returning to scrutinizing the class.

Toph leads me over to a pair of desks. From her pocket she pulls out an iPod, which she proceeds to plug into and tune out to the rest of the world. I think my question about her goggles may have made her a bit uncomfortable.

The class grows quiet the minute the teacher stands at the head of the class. Even Toph pulls out her headphones and sits up a bit. "Good morning class." Her tone doesn't ask for respect. It commands respect.

"Good morning Mrs. Kwam." The class chants back. I glance around and don't think I've ever seen a group of more unenthusiastic kids.

"We have a new student," she looks down her hooked nose, "Keatera Kerima." She says, mispronouncing it.

"It's Katara Kirima." I say and suddenly the whole room is staring at me, probing me. I offer a wobbly smile, unsure of what else to do.

"Well, Katara, let me tell you how things work in my class. I teach you. You do the work and you only speak if spoken to or if you have a question."

The rest of the period was spent in utter silence as Mrs. Kwan taught us the rules of exponents.

English was much lighter than Math. The teacher was kind and he even knew how to pronounce my name correctly. As I struggled with one question I looked at the two people beside me. Toph still sat on my left, her iPod still playing as she wrote an essay on the themes of Romeo and Juliet.

The boy on my right looks up when I gaze at him. He smiles and says, "You're the new kid. Katara, isn't it?" I nod and his smile grows even larger. "I'm Aang Gyago."

"Hey." He looks nice enough and a tiny, brave part of me, speaks up. "Know anything about Shakespeare?"

"You picked the right person to sit beside." And with that I met Aang and learned a little more about Shakespeare.

Study hall was easy enough. Toph took the period to show me around the school and introduce me to a few people, but no one, as she said to me later, who was that important

Final period was Art, Toph didn't have the class and walked off to Math, leaving me in front of the double doors leading to the art room. I hesitated in front of the doors. Toph had been at my side all day and I begun to rely on her silent companionship, but now I was alone to face the vibrant interior of the art room.

With a deep breath I walk into the room. The room is filled with natural light and students of every grade sit at paint smeared tables. Immediately I can see everyone staring at me, whispering behind their hands. I look around for a place to sit but every seat seems to be taken.

I start to fret. People are still staring, I try and offer a smile but it becomes more of pucker. A few kids snigger.

"Katara." I jump and turn around to see Zuko, standing behind me his amber eyes urgent and an expression that simply says get-your-ass-in-gear. With a small push he steers me towards a table at the very back of the class. "What are you doing? Who just stands at the front of the class? You looked like an idiot." He whispers harshly as we wind through the tables, his hand digging into my back.

"It's nice to see you to." I hiss back, taking the seat across from him.

The teacher walks into the room and the class grows quiet. Her long hair is pulled back into a braid reaching down to her waist. Her blue eyes are soft and she has a very content smile on her face. With a start, I realize that she closely resembles the priestess in the portrait, with that same cautious look in her eyes even though she is smiling. "Hello class. I am Ms. Kyoshi and this is Art Class. This term we will be covering anatomy, colours, lighting…" She continues to list things and I begin to fade in and out, suddenly exhausted.

I close my eyes and let my head fall back onto the cool glass of the window and just like that I was asleep.

"Katara. Wake up. I'm hungry and I want to go home." I jerk awake to my brother leaning over me, poking me in the forehead.

Toph and Zuko stand behind him, Toph looking vaguely amused while Zuko is . "I'm leaving." Zuko says, hoisting his bag on his shoulder and walking out.

"I'm taking Sunshine's lead. See you later." She runs after him and stops beside him. They walk out the room together leaving my brother and I alone.

"C'mon Katara. Let's go home."


	5. Agni Kai

**The Long Road to Nowhere**

**Chapter 5**

**Agni Kai**

**-**

I told my father that I fell asleep in Art Class. He really didn't seem to mind, obviously he was under the impression that I was emotionally unstable at the moment. He was probably right to. Even now that we had settled I could still feel myself unwinding.

A week passed and slowly I got into the swing of things. Go to school, meet up with Toph and Aang, and spend lunch with Sokka, Zuko, Toph but no Aang then finally use Art Class to press Zuko for as much information as I could about himself. What can I say? He was intriguing, dark hair, pale skin and amber eyes that always seemed to be watching me.

"Dad?" I shuffled into the small living room where my father was sitting, papers and blueprints bathed in afternoon sunlight. Dust shines dully on the piano bench where Zuko had once sat.

My father looks up from the paperwork and takes off his reading glasses. "Yes, Katara? Is there something you need?"

Dust fall from the rafters as a particularly loud bang comes from the upstairs. Listening carefully I can hear by brother moaning. "He must be practicing." I mutter, more to myself than my father. Ever since we arrived Sokka has been spending most of his afternoons locked up in the attic, playing with the swords.

"Katara?" I shake myself out of thought. My father is staring me. "Take a seat, is something wrong?"

I follow his request and sit down. Automatically my hands fold themselves in my lap. "Well, I was wondering if you knew anything about the priestess in the study." Her portrait had been on my mind almost much as Zuko had.

Hakoda takes in a deep breath and smiles gently. "No, I'm sorry Katara."

I stand up right away. "That's okay."

As I turn to leave my father's voice stops me. "But, there's a few books on it in the study. Would you like some help finding them?"

"No thanks!" I say, already out the door. I hurry across the large moon and sun mosaic into the study. The large books have remained relatively untouched since we moved in, my father said the office was the last room he was going to touch up. I run my fingers along the embossed spines, eyes reading the golden lettering.

Eventually my gaze falls on one entitled "_The Furor and Other Legends of the Sunshine Coast_" Curious, I pull the book off it shelf and blow a bit of dust off the cover before running my hand over the smooth material.

I sit down in a small beam of sunlight and lay on my stomach, opening the book to its table of contents. Glancing down the list, one chapter catches my eye. "_The Furor and the Priestess"_

Flipping to the page I start to read, the dark text shining slightly in the sun.

-

"_By far one of the most infamous of legends of the Sunshine Coast is that of the Furor and the Agni Kai._

_The Agni Kai was rumoured to be a secret society that controlled most of the Sunshine coast in the mid-1800's. Though this area of Americas had yet to be thoroughly explored the relics of the Agni Kai live on. See the picture of a temple found in the middle of a forest in Gibson's on the opposite page. As you can see the Agni Kai were not Natives of the land though stories of the Agni Kai have been passed down through many generations of the Tlingit Nation among other Northwest Coast Nations. Perhaps the most prominent recollections of the Agni Kai is the story of the Moon Tribe._

_The Agni Kai and Moon Tribe, a local tribe of unknown origins, perhaps members of Agni Kai that left and started their own society, were at war. People were dying on both ends and it seemed as though no end was in sight._

_Late one night the Moon Tribe ambushed the Agni Kai, killing most of their members and locking their leaders deep within the Moon Temple. From then on a woman of the Moon Tribe had always been in charge of the Moon Temple, making sure the Agni Kai never escaped._

_The brief snippets of myth we've been able to gather have led us to believe that the story itself starts off very simply. A woman, priestess of the Moon Temple (perhaps the temple ruins but there's no concrete evidence as of yet) fell in love with a man._

_As a priestess she was sworn to fidelity to her duties but soon they could not keep their love a secret and they planned to be married. The tribe was in a fury, they dragged the Priestess and her lover to the temple and using a key, who's whereabouts and shape are unknown, they locked the man into the innermost room of the cathedral._

_From there the chief told the man that they had killed the Priestess. He flew into a rage and cut a deal with the Agni Kai. They would grant him the power to avenge his lover, but only if he swore to their society._

_He accepted and escaped from the Moon Temple to wreak havoc and soon the entire Moon Tribe and their culture was obliterated. Analysis of bones and account of Native Americans who's ancestors found the bodies say that the monster's victims were all marked with the same identifying mark, a large sun-like scar covering the left side of their face._

_The Moon Priestess, knowing her time to act was then, tricked the fearsome beast, once her lover, back into the room where she locked the door, sealing away the monster or the "Furor" as it was later named._

_Though she had sealed the Furor's main host away some of it's spirit still trickled out and with guidance from the Agni Kai managed to because a half-demon and still rage across the Sunshine Coast, killing people when the Agni Kai demands it to do so._

_The story goes that if the key, whatever it may be, returns to the cathedral the Furor will become unstoppable. _

_Of course, this is just a simple wives tale yet there is still veritable proof that something, or someone, was killing people._

_-_

I glance at the clock which now read seven. The sun had long lost hope of my coming outside and enjoying it's light and now hid behind the horizon. The moon rose on the other side, perhaps, this cloudless night, to coax me out of the house into it's cool light.

Stretching, the pages flutter as I yawn widely. I stand up, picking up the book and closing it. My eyes close and I turn to look at the portrait. _Did you really lock him away?_

She is still staring as I open my eyes, her hand still clutched against her chest. Slowly I walk forward and place a hand upon the painting. The eyes, unlike last time, remain stationary but as I stare I see a hint of sadness behind the longing.

**DINGDONG**

The doorbell rings and I jump about a foot in the air. "Coming!" I shout while running to a shelf and stuffing the book back into its place.

The main room is dark as I slide in, pulling the door open. Standing there is Zuko. "Hello." He says.

I blink at him. "Oh, Zuko. Hi!" My gaze immediately goes to his face. _A large sun-like scar covering the left side of their face… _"What are you doing here?"

He reaches for his bag and pulls out a black book. "You left this at school."

"Thank you." I take it from him and lean against the doorframe. "Why didn't you wait till tomorrow?"

He points over his shoulder; I glance outside to see a beaten-up old truck parked in our driveway. "I was driving by."

"Oh yeah? Where were you going?" As soon as I ask this question his face turns stony. He turns away and leaves without another word.


End file.
